


Looks like he could use a hand

by jaanxx



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: M/M, NSFW, PWP, Sluts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 22:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3151013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaanxx/pseuds/jaanxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tiny drafty ask prompt of Pickles and Skwisgaar fucking because Skwisgaar refuses to knock on the damn door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looks like he could use a hand

**Author's Note:**

> Skwistok is my otp, but when i got this request I couldn't resist. They're just sluts that are fucking around for the fun of it- no strings attached in this fic.

Skwisgaar was supposed to meet Pickles to write the music for their new song over two hours ago. However, Skwisgaar had gotten out of bed five minutes earlier, looking at his alarm clock with an: “Oh, shits!” He hurriedly pulled on a pair of black jeans, and stumbled into the living room rubbing at his eyes blearily. He scanned the room twice and yet there was no sign of the red-head. Skwisgaar squinted at the room, as though it had taken Pickles hostage. He shook his head, assuming Pickles was still asleep. Usually, he’d leave the man be, perhaps go back to his own bed. However, today was different, although Skwisgaar tried not to think about why. He took long, confident strides down the long hall that led to the band’s bedrooms. He reached the drummer’s room quickly, and he raised his fist to knock on the door, but then he paused, and the corner of his lip twitched. While the rooms were mostly sound-proof, Skwisgaar was sure he was hearing some suspiciously breathy noises coming from behind Pickles’ door. And oh, the door was shut. The door was never shut. Pickles fucked girls everywhere except his room, and he always left his door open in case a band member needed his fatherly advice or he needed someone to turn him onto his side to help him avoid suffocating in his own vomit. (It was mostly Charles who did this.) This was the point when Skwisgaar decided to investigate. He lowered his fist in favor of the doorknob, opening the door slowly in order to avoid any creaking that may alert Pickles to his presence.

The sight before Skwisgaar was ten times better than anything he could’ve predicted. His caution was completely unnecessary, as Pickles was entirely engrossed in his own… activities.

Pickles was half-strewn out on the bed. His pants were thrust halfway down his ankles, his head thrown back and his face was flushed with pleasure. His eyes were closed, his hand wrapped loosely around his half-hard cock, and although it seemed he had been at this awhile, pre-come barely covered the tip. Skwisgaar watched, enjoying the sight just a moment longer. But then, he heard Pickles moan breathily, something that sounded awfully like ‘Skwisgaar-‘

His own pants were becoming painfully tight, and Skwisgaar decided that enough was enough, and shut the door quietly. Skwisgaar sidled up behind Pickles lithe form, sliding gracefully onto the bed. He leaned close to Pickles’ ear and whispered, “Yous am looking likes you coulds use a… hand.” Pickles inhaled sharply and smiled as Skwisgaar reached around his waist and swatted the older man’s hand away. He took Pickles’ cock in his own hand and rubbed the tip with his thumb. Pickles arched his back, grinding against Skwisgaar, and they were now both fully erect. Skwisgaar nipped at his neck, switching between teeth and tongue, barely hard enough to leave a mark. “I couldn’t wait for you.” Pickles moaned into his sheets. Skwisgaar’s strokes were long and languid, and he pressed a kiss into Pickles’ shoulder before growling, “Maybes next time yous can manage a littles more… patience.” Pickles was thrusting his hips into Skwisgaar’s hand and in the process creating more of the friction Skwisgaar desired. Skwisgaar bit his lip and ignored his thoughts of kicking off his own pants and thrusting deep inside the Irish man. These thoughts were hard to ignore though, and now he was thrusting harder than he had meant against Pickles’ bare ass. Pickles was shaking now, and Skwisgaar knew what that meant. He turned Pickles’ head with a hand on his chin and a sudden gentleness that made Pickles forget what he was going to say. That was okay, because Skwisgaar knew what it was, and captured his lips in a filthy kiss just as Pickles came into Skwisgaar’s waiting hand. Skwisgaar wiped the stuff on his own pants and moved so he was straddling Pickles from above. “No fair-” Pickles panted, “I just came and your pants aren’t even off yet.” “Whats was I sayinks about patience?” Skwisgaar smirked.


End file.
